Two Years Before the Mast
Yet when the vessel was made fast to the wharf and the crew dismissed,
he seemed suddenly to lose all feeling about the matter. He told me
that he went below and changed his dress; took some water from the
scuttle-butt and washed himself leisurely; overhauled his chest, and
put his clothes all in order; took his pipe from its place, filled it,
and sitting down upon his chest, smoked it slowly for the last time.
Here he looked round upon the forecastle in which he had spent so many
years, and being alone and his shipmates scattered, he began to feel
actually unhappy. Home became almost a dream; and it was not until his
brother (who had heard of the ship's arrival) came down into the
forecastle and told him of things at home, and who were waiting there
to see him, that he could realize where he was, and feel interest
enough to put him in motion toward that place for which he had longed,
and of which he had dreamed, for years. There is probably so much of
excitement in prolonged expectation, that the quiet realizing of it
produces a momentary stagnation of feeling as well as of effort. It
was a good deal so with me. The activity of preparation, the rapid
progress of the ship, the first making land, the coming up the harbor,
and old scenes breaking upon the view, produced a mental as well as
bodily activity, from which the change to a perfect stillness, when
both expectation and the necessity of labor failed, left a calmness,
almost of indifference, from which I must be roused by some new
excitement. And the next morning, when all hands were called, and we
were busily at work, clearing the decks, and getting everything in
readiness for going up to the wharves,--loading the guns for a salute,
loosing the sails, and manning the windlass--mind and body seemed to
wake together.
About ten o'clock, a sea-breeze sprang up, and the pilot gave orders to
get the ship under weigh. All hands manned the windlass, and the
long-drawn "Yo, heave, ho!" which we had last heard dying away among
the desolate hills of San Diego, soon brought the anchor to the bows;
and, with a fair wind and tide, a bright sunny morning, royals and
sky-sails set, ensign, streamer, signals, and pennant, flying, and with
our guns firing, we came swiftly and handsomely up to the city. Off
the end of the wharf, we rounded-to and let go our anchor; and no
sooner was it on the bottom, than the decks were filled with people:
custom-house officers; Topliff's agent, to inquire for news; others,
inquiring for friends on board, or left upon the coast; dealers in
grease, besieging the galley to make a bargain with the cook for his
slush; "loafers" in general; and last and chief, boarding-house
runners, to secure their men.
Nothing can exceed the obliging disposition of these runners, and the
interest they take in a sailor returned from a long voyage with a
plenty of money. Two or three of them, at different times, took me by
the hand; remembered me perfectly; were quite sure I had boarded with
them before I sailed; were delighted to see me back; gave me their
cards; had a hand-cart waiting on the wharf, on purpose to take my
things up: would lend me a hand to get my chest ashore; bring a bottle
of grog on board if we did not haul in immediately,--and the like. In
fact, we could hardly get clear of them, to go aloft and furl the
sails. Sail after sail, for the hundredth time, in fair weather and in
foul, we furled now for the last time together, and came down and took
the warp ashore, manned the capstan, and with a chorus which waked up
half the North End, and rang among the buildings in the dock, we hauled
her in to the wharf. Here, too, the landlords and runners were active
and ready, taking a bar to the capstan, lending a hand at the ropes,
laughing and talking and telling the news. The city bells were just
ringing one when the last turn was made fast, and the crew dismissed;
and in five minutes more, not a soul was left on board the good ship
Alert, but the old ship-keeper, who had come down from the
counting-house to take charge of her.
CONCLUDING CHAPTER
I trust that they who have followed me to the end of my narrative, will
not refuse to carry their attention a little farther, to the concluding
remarks which I here present to them.
This chapter is written after the lapse of a considerable time since
the end of my voyage, and after a return to my former pursuits; and in
it I design to offer those views of what may be done for seamen, and of
what is already doing, which I have deduced from my experiences, and
from the attention which I have since gladly given to the subject.
The romantic interest which many take in the sea, and in those who live
upon it, may be of use in exciting their attention to this subject,
though I cannot but feel sure that all who have followed me in my
narrative must be convinced that the sailor has no romance in his
every-day life to sustain him, but that it is very much the same plain,
matter-of-fact drudgery and hardship, which would be experienced on
shore. If I have not produced this conviction, I have failed in
persuading others of what my own experience has most fully impressed
upon myself.
There is a witchery in the sea, its songs and stories, and in the mere
sight of a ship, and the sailor's dress, especially to a young mind,
which has done more to man navies, and fill merchantmen, than all the
press-gangs of Europe. I have known a young man with such a passion
for the sea, that the very creaking of a block stirred up his
imagination so that he could hardly keep his feet on dry ground; and
many are the boys, in every seaport, who are drawn away, as by an
almost irresistible attraction, from their work and schools, and hang
about the decks and yards of vessels, with a fondness which, it is
plain, will have its way. No sooner, however, has the young sailor
begun his new life in earnest, than all this fine drapery falls off,
and he learns that it is but work and hardship, after all. This is the
true light in which a sailor's life is to be viewed; and if in our
books, and anniversary speeches, we would leave out much that is said
about "blue water," "blue jackets," "open hearts," "seeing God's hand
on the deep," and so forth, and take this up like any other practical
subject, I am quite sure we should do full as much for those we wish to
benefit. The question is, what can be done for sailors, as they
are,--men to be fed, and clothed, and lodged, for whom laws must be
made and executed, and who are to be instructed in useful knowledge,
and, above all, to be brought under religious influence and restraint?
It is upon these topics that I wish to make a few observations.
In the first place, I have no fancies about equality on board ship, It
is a thing out of the question, and certainly, in the present state of
mankind, not to be desired. I never knew a sailor who found fault with
the orders and ranks of the service; and if I expected to pass the rest
of my life before the mast, I would not wish to have the power of the
captain diminished an iota. It is absolutely necessary that there
should be one head and one voice, to control everything, and be
responsible for everything. There are emergencies which require the
instant exercise of extreme power. These emergencies do not allow of
consultation; and they who would be the captain's constituted advisers
might be the very men over whom he would be called upon to exert his
authority. It has been found necessary to vest in every government,
even the most democratic, some extraordinary, and, at first sight,
alarming powers; trusting in public opinion, and subsequent
accountability to modify the exercise of them. These are provided to
meet exigencies, which all hope may never occur, but which yet by
possibility may occur, and if they should, and there were no power to
meet them instantly, there would be an end put to the government at
once. So it is with the authority of the shipmaster. It will not
answer to say that he shall never do this and that thing, because it
does not seem always necessary and advisable that it should be done.
He has great cares and responsibilities; is answerable for everything;
and is subject to emergencies which perhaps no other man exercising
authority among civilized people is subject to. Let him, then, have
powers commensurate with his utmost possible need; only let him be held
strictly responsible for the exercise of them. Any other course would
be injustice, as well as bad policy.
In the treatment of those under his authority, the captain is amenable
to the common law, like any other person. He is liable at common law
for murder, assault and battery, and other offences; and in addition to
this, there is a special statute of the United States which makes a
captain or other officer liable to imprisonment for a term not
exceeding five years, and to a fine not exceeding a thousand dollars,
for inflicting any cruel punishment upon, withholding food from, or in
any other way maltreating a seaman. This is the state of the law on
the subject; while the relation in which the parties stand, and the
peculiar necessities, excuses, and provocations arising from that
relation, are merely circumstances to be considered in each case. As
to the restraints upon the master's exercise of power, the laws
themselves seem, on the whole, to be sufficient. I do not see that we
are in need, at present, of more legislation on the subject. The
difficulty lies rather in the administration of the laws; and this is
certainly a matter that deserves great consideration, and one of no
little embarrassment.
In the first place, the courts have said that public policy requires
the power of the master and officers should be sustained. Many lives
and a great amount of property are constantly in their hands, for which
they are strictly responsible. To preserve these, and to deal justly
by the captain, and not lay upon him a really fearful responsibility,
and then tie up his hands, it is essential that discipline should be
supported. In the second place, there is always great allowance to be
made for false swearing and exaggeration by seamen, and for
combinations among them against their officers; and it is to be
remembered that the latter have often no one to testify on their side.
These are weighty and true statements, and should not be lost sight of
by the friends of seamen. On the other hand, sailors make many
complaints, some of which are well founded.
On the subject of testimony, seamen labor under a difficulty full as
great as that of the captain. It is a well-known fact, that they are
usually much better treated when there are passengers on board.
The presence of passengers is a restraint upon the captain, not only
from his regard to their feelings and to the estimation in which they
may hold him, but because he knows they will be influential witnesses
against him if he is brought to trial. Though officers may sometimes be
inclined to show themselves off before passengers, by freaks of office
and authority, yet cruelty they would hardly dare to be guilty of. It
is on long and distant voyages, where there is no restraint upon the
captain, and none but the crew to testify against him, that sailors
need most the protection of the law. On such voyages as these, there
are many cases of outrageous cruelty on record, enough to make one
heartsick, and almost disgusted with the sight of man; and many, many
more, which have never come to light, and never will be known, until
the sea shall give up its dead. Many of these have led to mutiny and
piracy,--stripe for stripe, and blood for blood. If on voyages of this
description the testimony of seamen is not to be received in favor of